


praise be thy name

by TheBrokaryotes



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Emotional, Implied Slash, M/M, i only tagged explicit so i wouldn't go to AO3 jail, it's not super porn-y????, like it's supposed to be about the feeling, so i guess if u dont like that its not explicit then don't read?, the emotions, ya feel me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-20
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-09-01 03:15:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8605117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBrokaryotes/pseuds/TheBrokaryotes
Summary: "If I’m an angel, Yuri, then you’re a god.” Victor punctuates his declaration with a kiss. He tastes of golden light and the stars in the sky.
“And praise be thy name.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

Victor’s name is on Yuri’s tongue, and it’s a prayer, an utterance, an incantation that, like a priest or a mental patient, he just can’t stop from spilling over his lips, from echoing about in the weighted sounds of their breathing. There’s haze that clouds his vision, and without his glasses, the world is even more a blur than usual. All he can make out is the piercing intensity of Victor’s icy eyes, glassy and darkening with every moment that passes.

Yuri cannot remember where he begins or where Victor ends. Flush to one another, salty skin mixing in that coagulated, humid heat, they’ve become like one pure and independent being. Yuri is not Yuri, and Victor is not Victor; _they_ are each other and one, together and inseparable.

A drag of pressure runs down Yuri’s side, to his hip, and a strong grip anchors him up, pressing his skin closer to Victor’s. He can feel the Russian’s heartbeat, rapid and powerful, the beat of a bass drum. At this forced movement, Yuri feels himself cry out, to who he cannot recall: the Heavens, to God, or to Victor. All were one in the same as far as he was concerned.

Pleasure dances along his nerves, body alight and trembling with excitement. In his muddled consciousness, he blinks himself into focus, and reaches up with both hands to cup the face above his own. He struggles to keep clarity on Victor, on those two shining sapphires that shimmer in and out of his view. Victor’s expression is human, one of lust and greed for conquest over his prodige’s innocence, but beneath that mortal casing, Yuri can see a deity. It’s the same one he sees on the ice, movements telling the story of an immortal set on Earth to cleanse humankind of its sin.

His name is on Yuri’s tongue, and it’s a prayer, an utterance, an incantation. “Victor,” he breathes, barely able to get the name out before his breath is stolen away, mouth sealed shut by Victor’s own. It was little more than a whisper in the vastness of the universe, but it was a cosmic event to Yuri. He’d never given much thought to this side of himself, never allowed himself the luxury of fantasizing or worrying needlessly over primal pleasures. But this, he realized now, this deserved his time. It wasn’t because it was basic, a foundational urge to release sexual energy, a healthy and expressive outlet for emotions that tie only to unmet needs. No, to Yuri, this wasn’t a sexual act.

It was his _eros_. His true _eros_ , the one he’d been trying to unlock since Victor first assigned it to him over half a year prior. He’d known all along it may come to this, and yet he never could’ve guessed it would. This was his _eros_ , and his _agape_ , the rawest method in which he could prove to Victor that he appreciated all he had done, that he could never forget the man he fell in love with, knowingly or otherwise.

Yuri wants this forever; this closeness, this connection, this relationship, over and over again he wants it. The act itself—it’s label, “sex”—means nothing to him. The only meaningful thing to him in this moment is Victor. It begins and ends with him. It always had, and it always would, so long as Yuri had a say in it.

“Yuri,” Victor gasps out the name as a holy one, quickening his pace. His foreign tongue, the way it rolls across Yuri’s name, tracing out the vowels, drumming over the _r_ -sound, molding it to his mouth, speaks fire into Yuri’s heart. His hands ghost across Yuri’s body and hook beneath his lumbar. He rises up, and Yuri whines, the rush of cool air on his skin too much for him to handle. He couldn’t fathom being separate from Victor, even for a moment, couldn’t fathom the thought of Victor tearing away from him.

Victor’s grip is steady, his stare impassioned. Yuri absent-mindedly hooks his legs behind Victor’s back and jolts him closer, reaching out feebly with searching hands and coming up empty. There’s fervor all about him, but as Victor moves, rhythmic and eager, that passion pools at his abdomen, tight-wound like a box spring. His heels dig into Victor’s spine, hands falling to the sides of his head and gripping the pillow. He squeezes his eyes shut and tosses his head back, letting out a breathless cry.

The passion breaks, energy leached from his body as Yuri’s swallowed up in heat, in ardor and bliss. He sees galaxies behind his lids, and when he blinks them apart, he sees the cosmos in Victor’s eyes, never having once broken away from him. Victor glows in the low light, lips tugging at the sides in satisfaction.

“Feels good?” comes his whispered query, and Yuri’s barely conscious enough to recognize it as English and neither of their native languages. He nods his response after attempting to articulate an answer through long breaths and failing.

“ _Khorosho,_ ” Victor chuckles, leaning down to pepper kisses along Yuri’s neck, over his shoulders and down his chest. Yuri’s tangles his fingers in Victor’s soft silver hair, limbs aching and relaxing as the unified being they were before disappears, bodies separating from one another as Victor rises to leave for only a brief moment, he assures the grousing skater.

Victor lowers himself to the bed at Yuri’s side, and Yuri quickly reattaches himself to him, nuzzling at his shoulder and tangling their legs together. Victor laughs, hearty and warm, and pulls Yuri flush to his body again, murmuring softly into his hair between kisses.

“You say my name like I’m your deity,” Victor remarks, thumb drawing a circle on Yuri’s hip.

Yuri sighs, contemplating his answer for a moment. “That’s how you make me feel,” he responds in time, “like you’re an angel, come to bless me.” He must have said something funny, because Victor laughs, and it truly is angelic.

“If I’m an angel, Yuri, then you’re a god.” He punctuates his declaration with a kiss, guiding Yuri’s lips to his with a tug at his chin. He tastes of golden light and the stars in the sky. “And praise be thy name.”

His voice, that low hum and gentle vibration of his throat, resounds in Yuri’s soul, and when they fall asleep, it’s Yuri’s echo of Victor’s sentiment that hangs in the air between them.

**Author's Note:**

> im a beacon of sin


End file.
